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Her words were noticeably less affected than they had been when Lansing had given her the morphine. She wasn’t even slurring, just speaking a little slower. The doctor must’ve gone a lot lighter on the dose.

He inhaled deeply as he slid the key into the ignition. “I never said I didn’t like you. I just said I had no interest in getting to know you.” Without turning to look at her, because he heard the gasp and he could only imagine the amusing expression on her face, he revved the Jeep up. “Fasten your seatbelt.”

“But that’s mean! You don’t say that to someone unless you don’t like them or are deliberately trying to hurt their feelings, which you did.” She paused as she put her seatbelt on. “And you don’t deliberately try to hurt someone’s feelings unless you don’t like them.”

Refusing to look at her, he pulled forward to get out of the patient pick-up line. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. It wasn’t my intention.”

“Yes, it was,” she insisted.

“No, it wasn’t.” Pulling into the exit driveway of the hospital, he finally glanced at her, instantly regretting it because she looked adorable with that little crease between her eyes and her arms mulishly crossed in front of her. Struggling not to smile, he asked, “Which way do I turn?”

“Right,” she said. “And why can’t I call you by your first name?”

He bit down, locking his jaw for a moment before responding. This conversation needed to be derailed and soon because he was not getting personal with her. “Because we know each other strictly on a professional level, and I’d like to keep it that way. Referring to each other by first names would not be professional.” He heard her exhale a bit exasperated, but thankfully she didn’t say more. “Where do you live?”

She told him where, and it should’ve frustrated him further; instead, he smiled inwardly that her condo was only blocks from his apartment. Of course, she lived in an oceanfront condo, and he lived in an apartment building that was a few blocks away from the beach, but it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford to live more lavishly. He just chose not to.

To his relief, she was quiet the rest of the way, but he felt the tension thickening with every minute they drove in silence. He’d gladly take the tension over getting back into that risky conversation again. After spending several hours with her now, he’d be too tempted to assure her he didn’t dislike her because he hated knowing he’d hurt her feelings. It was better if they left things as they were with him not exactly denying he didn’t like her only clarifying what he’d actually said.

Scrutinizing the two-story building she pointed out as hers, he pulled into the security gate entrance and frowned. “I hope for your sake there’s an elevator.”

“I have crutches now,” she said, still sounding a little irritated with him. “You won’t have to carry me up.”

He turned to her, suddenly overwhelmed with concern. “You’re serious? You’re on the second floor, and there’s no elevator?”

She shook her head. “The code is 7119.”

Frowning, he turned to the security pad and punched in the numbers.

“My condo is on the first floor,” she clarified as they waited for the gate to open slowly.

“Then what did you mean about me not having to carry you up?”

He drove in the gate as she pointed in the direction of her condo. “It’s the last one on the right. They’re all on the first floor. They’re just all two stories,” she explained. “So my bedroom is on the second floor, and no there’s no elevator in my condo. I’ll be hopping upstairs or using my crutches to get up there.”

“Not tonight you won’t.” The words shot out without even thinking. “I mean,” he said, quickly backpedaling, “your ankle is still so swollen, and you’re still under the influence of morphine. You could fall again.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said as he pulled into the parking space just in front of her condo. She turned around and grabbed her crutches.

Before he could open his door, she was already opening hers. “Don’t get out.” His words were far more commanding than she’d obviously expected to hear from him, and she turned to look at him, her eyes confirming his tone had startled her. “I’ll come around and help you.”

He rushed around the Jeep because he was already picking up on her tenacity and decided she may very well ignore his request that she wait for him to come around and help her. He cursed under his breath. Was she really going to try to make it up to the second floor when she could barely stand without wobbling?

Sure as shit she already had the door open and her good leg hanging out, trying to place the crutches on the ground. He held his hand out for her. “Give me your hand, Ms. Brady. I’ll get you down.”

She’d begun to take his hand but took it back. “Oh, can we please stop with that, Brandon? It’s so silly.” Her furrowed brows were back, and Brandon stared at her, trying not to get caught up in those big dark eyes as he had too often tonight already. “We’ve been around each other all night. We may not know each other very well, but I’d say, after the hours we’ve spent together, we can at least be on a first-name basis.”

Moving in closer to her, he saw her eyes widen. “Forget about giving me your hand,” he said, disregarding her previous comments and took her by the waist. “Put your hands on my shoulders instead.”

She didn’t move right away but then huffed and complied. He lifted her off the seat, bringing her body against his as she slid down until her good foot was on the ground.

“Keep holding on to me,” he said, ignoring the way she was staring at him and reached for her crutch. “Here you go.” He placed the crutch under her arm but continued to hold on to her firmly, even as she put her weight down on the crutch and her good foot. “Don’t let the other one touch the ground. Remember you don’t want to put any pressure on it at all yet.” Even after placing the other crutch under her other arm, she still swayed a little and didn’t look at all as if she’d be going too far without taking a tumble. “Maybe I should just carry you. You seem a little dizzy still.”

“I got it,” she insisted, but he didn’t let go of her, walking alongside of her as she struggled with every step.

When she nearly fell for the third time, he took the crutch from under her left arm and threw it down on the grassy area in front of her condo.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Keeping you from falling and breaking your other ankle.”

He would’ve preferred throwing her stubborn ass over his shoulder, but he was afraid of hurting her ankle, so he lifted her once again, cradling her in his arms. She dropped the other crutch and wrapped her arms around his neck. Having her in his arms like this just like when she’d slid down his body getting out of the car felt too damn good. He needed to get her inside and get the hell out of there fast. He reached the small porch with a wooden swing bench. “You have the keys on you?”

“Oh, no.” She winced. “They’re in my purse in your back seat.”

Brandon placed her down on the bench, careful that it didn’t swing too much. He rushed back to the Jeep and grabbed her purse, determined to get this over with. Even if she did insist she was going upstairs tonight when she couldn’t even make it from his Jeep to the front door, he wouldn’t be arguing. She wasn’t his concern. He’d get her in and wash his hands of her. He’d already gone above and beyond considering the risk he knew he’d be taking the moment he decided to stay with her the whole time tonight.

Picking up the crutches from the grass on the way back with her purse, he handed it to her, not wanting to dig through it himself. He leaned the crutches against the wall just outside her front door. Regina took the purse, and after looking through it for a few seconds, she handed him the key. He unlocked the front door and opened it. The front room was completely dark, and his hand searched the wall just inside next to the door. “Is this where . . .?” he began to ask, but then found the switch and turned the lights on. He blinked, staring into the nearly empty front room. “You don’t have furniture?” he asked, not sure if maybe she’d been burglarized, because there were a few things in her front room—a couple of plants, a few boxes, and a big antique-looking trunk.